Heart of Light
by Cat-o-nine-tails
Summary: In Sojourn, Drizzt comes to the surface. What if, instead of the stuff in the book, he meets someone befoer all that? An elven woman, Aven'Nataria -- and what role will she play?
1. Drizzt's journal

_Many men may speak that they have faced the worst nightmares, lived the darkest paths, and fought the bloodiest battle. They will tell you that they have survived horrors so wild that they are unimaginable, beyond dreams, beyond mortals. They will say that they have survived an eternity of utter darkness that can murder the soul, deaden the heart, and shatter the spirit into hundreds of thousands of pieces._

_            They have not been amongst the drow._

_            In the surface world, there are many things that can keep a man going. Compassion, love, hope, trust, small joys – all of which my people sorely lack. Not only that, the drow delight in taking that which they do not possess and destroy it. And so they teach their children that trust is for the foolish, that mercy is a weakness. Blotting out the light, snatching away the hope, breaking the love – and in the end, there is nothing but an empty shell of hatred, fear, ambition… and despair. Dare I say that I escaped from them unscathed? No, I think not. Hardly at all._

            I fled from them, and have spent many mornings beholding the majesty of sunrises. I let it cleanse me, even though there is pain in the purification. Even so, there are still scars. Scars that never heal, scars that would stay with me for the rest of my days, however long that may be. I yearn for healing that will never come. I yearn for the ultimate light that would banish the dark forever, and yet know this not to be possible.

_            Thus, with such thoughts in my mind, I expected the worst when I first set foot on the surface world. I warily search the shadows, waiting for my demons to leap at me, waiting perhaps for glimpses of ebony skin and white hair under a piwafwi… and a crossbow, ready to fire at me. I kept my hands on the hilts of my scimitars, always, in sleep and in waking hours._

_            And so, it was the greatest surprise to me that the very first things I found on the surface were what I have longed for: love, and trust, and joy._

_--Drizzt Do'Urden_


	2. Little House in the Big Woods

**Chapter 1 – Little House in the Big Woods**

            Drizzt was falling, falling into the darkness from whence he came. The dying Kempfana gurgled above him, and even in death throes the vicious barghest was determined to bring the drow to the next world with it. Pain and lack of oxygen were clenching around Drizzt, squeezing like a giant hand. He tried to fight the fall, but still the darkness came.

            And the monster that had slain the boy was yet alive…

Scene Change

            Soft, soft mattress and sheets were under him, a silky blanket covering him. A gentle hand lay against his forehead. Vierna, his wean-mother, had sometimes been gentle like that. So long ago. And in the end, she too was twisted beyond recognition. Tinkling bells chimed. A song, but very much unlike the eerie, dark music the drow – though so very rarely, and enjoyed only by the nobles – played. This was light and bright, not whispering secrets and nightmares, but promising of sunlight and glittering water.

            Drizzt struggled to climb up from that bottomless pit of oblivion. Handhold and foothold he found, and little by little, he managed. As his lavender eyes came open, he had to blink to adjust. Golden light was all around him, candles and dozens of them.

            "You awake." The music stopped; Drizzt started. The words were not in the human tongue, and certainly not goblinoid. It was in Drow, pronounced perfectly with just a hint of melody and warmth. 

            Drizzt made a turn. The speaker sat upon a high-backed, cushioned chair – with Guenhwyvar draped across her lap. The great cat rubbed its head against the woman's silk-clad thigh and purred contentedly, as if to allay Drizzt's alarm in advance. Then it came to him and laid a comforting paw, claws retracted, on Drizzt, eyeing him with its large yellow orbs.

            The drow looked at the woman. She was, he noted, elven. Surface elven, or what his kind often called faerie. Long hair cascaded over her shoulders, over her waist, like a glistening golden curtain, with just a hint of curls. Sapphire supernovas burned in the deep pools of her eyes, intelligent and full of mysteries. Her skin was a pale gold, tinted with a dusky pink that reminded him of sunset clouds.

            "You were unconscious for a night and half a day," the elf maiden said. "How do you feel?"

            Drizzt didn't answer that, but asked instead: "Who are you, and what transpired?"

            A smile kissed the full, red lips. "Always suspicious. But I should expect no less, Drizzt Do'Urden, former of the fourteenth house of Menzoberranzan, son of Matron Malice and Weaponmaster Zaknafein." 

            "And how," Drizzt growled slowly, "do you know all this?"

            The woman pointed a slender, long finger at the panther. "She told me."

            Guenhwyvar looked up at Drizzt, and managed to look sheepish. The woman laughed at that, the sound tinkling. "Do not blame her. We are, after all, long-time friends, she and I. She was once an elf too. But that is a tale for another time. You asked and I will answer: I am Aven'Nataria Firestar of Silverymoon, follower of the Dark Maiden Elistraae. As for what transpired…" Aven'Nataria reached for a staff leaning nearby. It had a blue crystal ball on the top, and little letters along the length. "I was called to the site of battle, so to speak. There I found Guen fighting a losing battle against a giant wolf. The monster was severely wounded already, so it was a simple matter to finish it off. She then brought me to you."

            Still skeptical, Drizzt scowled. "But why?"

            "I am a follower of the Dark Maiden, as I have told you. I am her priestess, and taught to aid the lost and the wanderers. You fit both descriptions, I think." Aven'Nataria gestured, and a bowl of something steaming floated toward her. "Please, eat this. You will need the energy, and more rest, until you fully recover. While you eat, I will tell you what happened."

            With reluctance, Drizzt spooned the soup into his mouth. It tasted pleasant, but not something he had ever tasted before. 

            "I was watching you when you watched the humans in Maldobar. You saved a family from gnoll raiders, and when the children approached you, you did not harm them. My curiosity was, I must admit, a motivation greater than my duty at the time. I saw the quickling, too, and wondered what it wanted with you. Through divination, I later discovered its purpose and that of its masters, the barghest brothers."

            "Then why did you not—"

            "It was too late, I fear. That was when I came to their lair and found you." Her head lowered slightly. "I too mourn for the dead farmers. Slain children are not a lovely sight to behold, and the murder is an abominable act. I fully share your desire for vengeance, and admire you for bringing justice."

            "Aven'Nataria!"

            The elf maiden stood up at the call of her name. "You must excuse me. It seems I have a visitor." She then left with a swirl of silken blue robe, leaving Drizzt behind with Guenhwyvar and his thoughts at the strange turn of events as company.    


End file.
